


Precious

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:20:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jobs sometimes got dangerous, but Ariadne thought she could handle herself. Seeing Arthur in action put things in a whole new light.</p><p>Incorporates two prompts: <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/17044.html?thread=35298964#t35298964">Somehow they end up handcuffed together and can't get free right away.</a><br/><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/17669.html?thread=37570309#t37570309">She loves the sweet and romantic Arthur, but she wants the BAMF!Athur who can kill men with just one arm.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Precious

As selfish as Arthur thought it was, he was glad that Ariadne decided to stay in dream share so she could work with him. He enjoyed teaching her self defense and how to fire guns in various dreamed up practice areas. She was a quick study, and never seemed to mind his arms around her as he adjusted her stance. He liked sliding his hands over hers, and she smiled at him so prettily as he had her practice shooting with several different guns. The smaller guns fit better in her hands, and the extra hours upon hours of practice in the PASIV helped to hone her skills. Arthur felt protective of her, even so, and he knew it had nothing to do with her ability to protect herself and everything to do with how he felt about her.

"Hey, can you check if I'm holding this properly?" she asked, waving a Ruger P94.

Arthur obligingly stood behind her in the range, arms over hers and his front pressed tight to her back. "You've got a good stance, Ariadne. Your grip is good, not too tight," he added, hands sliding across hers. His face was right next to hers, and he looked down the range at the paper target. "If you want to give it a try, now's the time."

Ariadne turned slightly and kissed him, lips slanting over his. Though Arthur was startled, it took only a moment for him to respond in kind. "I asked for that, didn't I?" he asked, a grin on his face.

She laughed delightedly and put her arms around him to kiss him again. "Yes, you did." Her grin was wide and lovely, and she pulled him down for another kiss. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," he murmured, letting his hands slide down her back. "How about we do this in the real world?"

It didn't take long at all for them to wake up and stumble into the bedroom of Ariadne's apartment. Arthur slowly peeled the clothes from her body, mouth blazing a trail of kisses along her skin. His touch was gentle and reverent, memorizing the texture of her skin and the curves of her flesh. Arthur seized her mouth in a passionate kiss as his hand slipped down between her thighs. Finding her already damp, Arthur dragged his fingers through her curls and traced the shape of her before sliding his fingers inside of her. Slowly, slowly, Arthur stroked her as he kissed her. She had her hands beneath his jacket, undoing the buttons on the waistcoat and shirt, running over the fabric to trace the play of his muscles as he worked her agonizingly slowly toward orgasm.

She cried out, arching against him, and he bent his head down to take a breast into his mouth. He moved slowly, so slowly, following the gasping breaths as he learned what she liked. Ariadne pushed the fabric from his shoulders, and he withdrew his hand and mouth long enough to shrug out of his clothes. Rejoining her on the bed, Arthur coaxed another orgasm from her before sliding inside of her. His thrusts were sure and steady, his mouth slanted over hers. Ariadne wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together. There was nothing but shuddering breaths and soft moans, his tongue in her mouth as his cock slid in and out in time with her ragged heartbeat. Arthur managed to hold himself back until she came again with a strangled cry, writhing beneath him. Groaning, Arthur arched his back and came, sheets clutched desperately in his hands.

Curled around each other, Ariadne threaded her fingers through his hair. "Why did we wait so long for this?"

"I thought it was just me," Arthur said softly, running his fingertips along her shoulder. "And I didn't want to ruin our friendship."

"I think this only adds to it, doesn't it?" she replied, grinning at him.

He chuckled softly. "Yes, I suppose this does." He grinned at her, wide enough that dimples showed. "I don't want you working with anyone else."

"Good. I don't want to work with anyone else, either."

Arthur pulled her close, a soft smile on his face. She had no idea how precious she was to him, how much he cared about her. He would prove it to her, he knew. He was the details man, and he knew all sorts of details about her. Ariadne would understand just how big a step this was.

***

No one else seemed to notice the shift in their relationship, but they didn't change how they behaved in the workplace. She did sketches and CAD models, built the physical models to point out the mazes and then took the dreamers in to help them memorize the mazes and learn the traps she had put into them. Arthur paid attention to the background details, poked holes in plans to tighten them up, and provided all the necessary security information for the team. Sometimes they worked with Eames as their extractor, sometimes with a few other people that Arthur had met over the years in the illegal dream share business. If Eames figured out that their relationship had moved beyond the platonic, he tactfully didn't say a word. Arthur was surprised and gratified, then resentful that he felt grateful to Eames about anything. He could be insufferable and sarcastic, and he enjoyed making others squirm with his comments. Ariadne never seemed to bear the brunt of his biting remarks, for which Arthur was also absurdly grateful.

"Harding is a twit," Eames was saying, looking over the files Arthur had supplied him for this particular job. "The man has no taste whatsoever."

"Coming from you, that's saying something," Arthur intoned, unable to help himself. Ariadne's snicker from her table made him smile, even if she didn't look up from where she was gluing a model together.

"Ha, ha," Eames replied dryly. "King of wit, you are. I mean the boyfriend is utter rubbish. Good in the sense that it'll be easy enough to extract from him, but really, you'd think Harding would have better taste in men."

"I take it the boyfriend isn't what makes you hot," Ariadne laughed, finally looking up from her model.

"God, no. Much too blond," Eames snarked. "I prefer darker hair, slighter features."

"I need to not be in the room for this," Arthur intoned, snapping shut the Moleskine he was writing in.

"I didn't mean _you,_ darling," he drawled, a grin on his face. "Well, you _are_ my type, but I don't chase down people that are spoken for. Did you really think I was coming on to you?"

Arthur flushed as Ariadne and Eames both laughed. "Shut up."

"Not that I don't imagine the two of you," he continued blithely, clearly enjoying himself. "I mean, you're both my type. Feel free to invite me in, however," he added, grinning at Arthur's reddening face.

"Not on your life," Arthur said haughtily. He looked over at Ariadne's grinning face. "Don't tell me you're thinking about this?" he asked, shocked.

"No, but I don't often see you out of your element. It's adorable."

"Gag me, you're making googly eyes at each other again," Eames drawled, rolling his eyes. "I'd rather go deal with Harding and his horrible taste in men." He rose fluidly to his feet. "Be good, the two of you, hm? Or if you aren't, share all the details with the rest of the class."

"Go to work, Eames," Arthur said, irritation in his tone.

Eames laughed, pleased to have gotten under Arthur's skin. "If I had known that all it would take to rattle you was indicate you're my type, I would've done it years ago. Funny how it never bothered Ariadne when I mentioned it to her. I suppose I don't know you as well as I think I do."

"Keep it professional, Eames," Arthur told him, starting to get angry.

He held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Fine, fine. Keep your stodgy ways in the workplace." He looked over at Ariadne and mouthed _Details?_ hopefully, then frowned when she shook her head with a smile. "No fun, the both of you. Why do we keep working together?"

"Because other teams will get you shot at in real life," Ariadne supplied helpfully.

"There is that," Eames conceded. "And they aren't nearly as amusing when working," he added with a smile. "I'm off, then. Ring me if you find something else I'll need to know about Harding or his idiot blond companion."

"Will do," Arthur replied with a nod, glad to slip back into a more cordial and neutral work atmosphere.

Ariadne managed to wait until Eames left the office before breaking out into giggles. "Oh, Arthur. That expression on your face was priceless."

He made a moue of irritation and Ariadne came over from her desk. She leaned down and kissed him softly. "Hey. Not here," he protested weakly.

"It's just us, and you needed that," she murmured, touching her forehead to his. She smiled softly. "Don't worry. You're the only one for me, okay?" She carefully placed her hands on the arms of his chair so that any glue stuck on her fingers wouldn't get on his suit. She would have preferred to run her fingers through his gelled hair, but had to stick with the forehead touches for now. "I'll show you even more when we get home."

Arthur's mouth stretched into a slow smile as he let his hands rest on her waist. "I'll count the minutes," he returned, then kissed her softly.

Later, he would tell her it had been 247 minutes before he was able to get her home and into the bedroom.

***

Harding may not have had the same taste in men as Eames, but there had definitely been a reason why he had chosen his boyfriend. The blond was the sub in their relationship, and liked all kinds of kinks that Harding wouldn't have been able to try out with anyone else. Eames had playfully tried to discuss it with Arthur, more to get a rise out of him than anything else, and laughed when Arthur shot him down with commands to keep it professional in the office.

Still, that also meant it wasn't a complete surprise when they saw the bedroom in the boyfriend's apartment lined with all sorts of paraphernalia for that active sex life. Eames had whistled appreciatively at the collection. "High end stuff," he remarked, looking over the toys, spreader bars and cuffs. He took the PASIV and set it down on the floor next to the blond and looked up at Arthur with a saucy grin. "Giving you two ideas?"

"Stay on task, Eames," Arthur growled. Ariadne's cheeks were pink, and she stayed silent as she went through the process to check the lines and hook up the blond. She gave Arthur a soft smile, and the aggressive set to his shoulders eased slightly. "Are we ready?"

The men were hooked into the PASIV, and Ariadne finished her check. "See you soon," she murmured, pressing the button on the machine.

The entire job was supposed to be finished within two hours real time, including getting the boyfriend into his apartment, and it only required a single level. Ariadne kept watch over the sleeping men on the floor, alert for problems just in case. Her mind wandered over the items in the room; some were easy to figure out the uses for, others were a bit more difficult for her. Still, Eames' taunting question was getting her thinking all kinds of thoughts that had nothing to do with the job.

They didn't distract her enough that she missed the sound of keys in the front door of the apartment. She felt a surge of panic, and put the headphones on over Arthur's ears before adjusting the dosing of the somnacin. She began easing her Bersa Thunder from beneath her jacket. No one was supposed to be here; Harding was out of town on a business conference, and the boyfriend had no gainful employment. She pulled the bedroom door closed, leaving it open only the barest of cracks so that she could see who was coming into the apartment without being seen herself.

Four men dressed in nondescript business suits entered the apartment and shut the door behind them. They spoke in low tones in a language that wasn't English, and none of them seemed happy. She could clearly see holsters and guns beneath the jackets, and they moved with the kind of ease that spoke of confidence using those guns. Ariadne spared a glance at the men behind her; they should be waking soon, and she knew she would need their help in getting out. This bedroom had no windows, and she wasn't good enough to kill four men on her own. She was good enough to return fire in the dreaming and take care of herself, but these men didn't look as though they would hesitate to shoot a petite woman. The Bersa would have enough cartridges in it to take out the four men, but in the time it would take her to readjust her aim, the other men might be able to make a kill shot. She would rather have more even odds.

Eames woke first, gasping awake. He sat up and immediately saw Ariadne at alert, gun in hand. "Oh, dear," he muttered. "What did I miss?"

Ariadne backed up slightly. "Four men, likely armed. Right now just talking, but they're looking around like they're waiting for someone." She looked meaningfully down at the blond.

He winced. "I was shadowing Harding. You'd think something like that would show up in Arthur's research." Eames paused. "Unless we were very wrong about the boyfriend."

They both looked at Arthur, who was still sleeping. "We need to pull the plug," Ariadne whispered. "There's no other way out of this room."

"He'll get it," Eames insisted. "Just give him a minute."

"We may not have it," she hissed.

Eames took out his USP Compact and edged closer to the bedroom door. He looked back at Ariadne in concern. "You said there were four." She nodded. "I only see three."

Her eyes widened as the bedroom door swiftly swung inward, catching Eames in the face. She shot the man coming in, right in the center of his chest, and he fell to his knees in shock as blood poured out. Without bothering to be careful with her aim, she started shooting at the other three men coming toward them. She caught one in the shoulder, one in the chest and missed the other entirely. Eames had started shooting as well, and the man that Ariadne had shot in the chest went down with three more. The man with the shoulder wound had used him as a shield, blocking Eames' bullets. The third wasn't wounded at all, and knocked Eames to the ground as Arthur gasped awake.

Ariadne didn't even spare him a glance; she fired at the third man, hoping she wouldn't get Eames in the crossfire. She could see Arthur yanking out the tubing out of the corner of her eyes, and he pushed the sedation on the boyfriend even as he unholstered his Glock.

The man with the shoulder wound entered the room, however. He had cold, soulless eyes as he aimed his Sig Sauer at Ariadne's forehead. "Drop the weapons," he said with heavily accented English. "Unless you want her to die."

Arthur swallowed, weighing his options. The other man got in a good punch to the underside of Eames' jaw and knocked the USP Compact from his hand. It slid across the floor to somewhere under the bed. He got his own Sig Sauer out and pressed it into Eames' gut. "Don't move, _da?"_

Carefully, Arthur put down his Glock. There was no way he could shoot both men fast enough to keep Eames and Ariadne alive.

The man motioned Ariadne and Arthur together, then used one of the handcuffs on the wall to cuff the two of them to the bed. It was bolted down the floor, and there were all sorts of large iron rings welded to the cast iron frame. Ariadne had previously wondered what the rings were for, but now she didn't have to wonder. The rings were large enough to pass the handcuffs through easily, and that effectively kept them bound in place. The man took her Bersa Thunder but didn't seem to care about the Glock, leaving it on the floor just out of reach. They were trapped in the room as the two men seemed to confer amongst themselves. Neither seemed to care about the blond on the floor or the PASIV device. Arthur's jaw tightened, and Eames flicked him a glance. Though his face was impassive, there was terror in his eyes.

Ariadne suddenly understood why they hadn't expected these men; they weren't after the blond or Harding. They were after _Eames._

The two men dragged Eames into the living room. Ariadne didn't understand what they were saying, but Arthur winced at one particularly nasty sounding statement. Eames responded in kind, though she could tell he was bluffing.

When the sounds of a beating began, Ariadne tugged at the handcuffs. Whatever the cause, she couldn't imagine that they would be content with beating Eames to a pulp. She and Arthur had seen too much, and she could only think that the two of them would be next. There was no give in the links of the cuffs, and it hurt to try to slide her wrist through it. The man had tightened it too tight, and she grit her teeth to keep from crying out.

Arthur's eyes went all around the room, instantly cataloging its contents and judging what he could possibly use. He got up from the edge of the bed and leaned as far as he could for one of the spreader bars hanging on the wall. Ariadne winced at the sight of the cuff digging into his wrist, but he merely grimaced and kept stretching. He managed to get his fingertips on the bar, knocking it off of the hook. For a fraction of a second, he panicked when it seemed that the bar was about to fall farther away from them. Arthur tugged on the cuff again, stretching farther so that he could curl his fingertips to draw the bar toward him.

It worked, and he was able to eventually catch it. Ariadne had no idea what he was planning to do with it, but she was amazed just the same. His face was one of relentless determination, and without speaking he wedged the bar against the links in the cuffs, pressing them to the cast iron ring. He pivoted the steel spreader bar back and forth, working on the weld in the links. "Pull back if you can," he said tersely, still working the bar against the link. Nodding, Ariadne pulled back, watching as Arthur used his leverage to bend the link in the chain between each handcuff.

Arthur worked the link loose as quickly as he could, Eames' cries and grunts in the next room an awful soundtrack. The metal in the cuffs finally bent and snapped, freeing them from the cast iron bedpost. Arthur went for his Glock and Ariadne dove beneath the bed for Eames' USP Compact. He stalked forward, gun in hand, and quickly shot the man beating Eames in the back of the head. The one with the shoulder wound had been holding Eames down. As he reached for his own weapon, Arthur shot him in the head as well.

Shaking with adrenaline, Ariadne knelt beside Eames. "Are you all right?"

He tried to smile at them, but his lips were split and bleeding. "Felt better," he finally said.

"You could have mentioned that last job you were on went sour."

"That was in Moscow. I didn't think they'd follow me here," he grumbled, wincing at the pull in his lip. He let Ariadne pull him up into a sitting position. "Thanks."

Arthur sighed and put up his Glock. "Asshole. I wish you'd think more about this shit you do."

Eames gingerly touched his ribs and winced again. He took his gun back from Ariadne. "If I thought too hard about it, I'd quit. Can't have it both ways."

"I suppose not." Arthur looked back toward the bedroom and nearly winced. "There's no way we're going to be able to cover this up. Too messy for just us to handle."

Ariadne retrieved her gun and stepped away from the corpse as quickly as possible. The handcuff at her wrist clinked lightly against her watch. Its partner was still around Arthur's left wrist. "So now what?"

"Two options. Leave and let him puzzle it out himself or use one of our identities and claim we're good Samaritans."

"I vote option one," Eames said. "I'd rather just get the hell out of here."

"You're going to have to lie low again," Arthur warned him.

"And kill the Markov identity. Damn. I liked that one."

Arthur looked at Ariadne, noting her flushed cheeks and dilated eyes. "Ariadne?" he asked, voice softening in concern.

"Let's get home. Harding wasn't exactly a legit businessman. He'll think this was because of him." She reached out and touched his arm. "Let him deal with it."

Nodding, Arthur reached out and took Eames' wallet. He rifled through the various ID's in it, ignoring Eames' protests. He plucked out the one Eames had mentioned. "This is the one that sparked the trouble?" Eames sighed and nodded. "I'll take care of it. You go into hiding, text me when you're safe. Don't switch numbers, or I won't be able to let you know when it's clear for you to surface again."

Eames looked at him gratefully. "Thanks, Arthur. Appreciate it."

"I'll take it out of your cut," Arthur said, unable to keep a smirk off of his face at Eames' crestfallen expression. "Get yourself a head start."

"Stay safe," Ariadne murmured as Eames staggered to his feet. He shook off her attempts to help him, and left quickly, assuring them both that he knew how to keep himself under the radar for a while.

With Ariadne's help, Arthur staged the area to look as if there was a fight amongst the men and one was wounded but had escaped alive. They carefully wiped down all prints they might have left in the apartment, and Arthur left an empty vial of sedative in one man's pocket to explain why Harding's boyfriend had been unconscious for the entire attack. The key for the handcuffs was easily found, so the broken pieces were removed from their wrists. Ariadne pocketed them, reminding Arthur that there wouldn't be a good explanation for why they were broken in the manner that they were broken, but Harding might simply assume that the missing man had them. He agreed with her, and packed up the PASIV. They exited the apartment building and blended into the crowds. Not sure if the four men had any other friends, they didn't go straight back to their hotel room.

After a few hours, Arthur deemed it safe enough to call their employer with the news that the extraction was a success. Ariadne returned to the hotel room and Arthur went to meet their employer to make the exchange. He understood the panic in her eyes when he suggested that they split up, and cupped her face in his hands to give her a gentle, calming kiss. "I'm coming back to you," he murmured softly. "Never doubt that. You're precious to me, Ariadne," he said softly. Her eyes widened a fraction; neither had mentioned the word love or said anything that might approximate it. "We'll take a break after this. Time off, just the two of us."

"I'm holding you to it," she said shakily, nodding and holding onto his hands. They kissed again, and then Arthur went to go complete the job.

In their hotel room, Ariadne stared at the broken pair of handcuffs and shivered. It wasn't all out of fear.

***

They went to the Bahamas as Angelica and Joshua Meyer after receiving news that Eames was safely holed up somewhere. A mutilated body containing Antonin Markov's ID was found fished out of a river not far from Harding's boyfriend's apartment building, so further reprisals against Eames wouldn't be coming. Arthur locked the door to their hotel room and wrapped his arms around her. He inhaled the scent of her deeply, reveling in the feel of her pressed up against him. He hadn't allowed himself to feel the terror of losing her until now, couldn't bear to think of a future without her.

Their mouths met, and Arthur tangled his fingers in her hair to keep her close. Ariadne ran her hands along his back, raking her nails along the fabric of his shirt. She slid one hand beneath the waistband of his slacks, feeling the tender skin beneath her fingers. Arthur layered kisses down her neck and then pulled her shirt up and over her chest. Ariadne was wearing only a thin cotton bra due to the heat; he took a breast into his mouth, tongue rubbing her through the cotton. Her breath left her lungs in a rush as he sucked gently, his tongue moving over the peaked nipple. She moaned and let her hands run across his back to the nape of his neck. She tangled her fingers in his hair, mussing it and not caring. Arthur stroked her other breast, scratching lightly at her nipple through the fabric. Ariadne moaned again, scratching at his scalp with her nails, making him smile against her skin.

"Say there'll be more," she gasped when Arthur raised his head.

"Of course," he murmured, moving to fall to his knees in front of her. He tugged off her jeans and she helped kick them off. Arthur bent his head to the juncture of her thighs, his hands light on her hips. She spread her legs wide for him, giving him better access, and he gently brushed his tongue along her folds. He moved his hands so that one traced her lightly as he licked. Ariadne bucked her hips against him, crying out in pleasure at the contact.

"Don't stop," Ariadne pleaded, tilting her hips. Arthur chuckled and plunged his tongue deeply inside her wet slit. "Oh," she moaned, head lolling on her shoulders. "There, please, more."

He obeyed the words and the tug of her hand at his hair, urging him to continue. He traced her folds again, then moved to take her clit between his lips. She cried out again as he sucked gently on it. A touch harder and she came, crying out and pulling sharply on his hair.

Ariadne swayed slightly when Arthur sat back on his haunches and licked his wet lips, looking up at her in adoration. "Come on, then," he said with a slow smile. "Bed."

The rest of her clothes were tossed aside on the way to the bed, and Ariadne attacked his clothes with gusto. She tossed them away and pulled him onto the bed with her, reaching between them to stroke his cock. She wound up kneeling beside his sprawled form, and he had a hand between her spread thighs, fingers curling inside her wet heat to make her come again. Unable to wait, Ariadne straddled his waist and sank down over his length. She rocked against him, pulling his hands up to cup her breasts. Arthur cupped them and stroked her nipples as she reached behind her to grasp his thighs. Gasping, Ariadne threw her head back as she moved. Arthur pinched her nipples lightly, making her cry out in pleasure. Her hips bucked against his erratically as she moved faster, grinding down over him until she came.

Arthur let his hands fall to her hips and urged her to continue. "I'm not done," he said with a smile, tilting his hips so that her downstroke was deepened. She moaned deliciously, taking up the rhythm again. She leaned forward this time, her hands on either side of his shoulders, her hair spilling down and brushing against his face. "So beautiful," he gasped, hands tightening on her hips. "So perfect."

She could feel herself clenching as she was approaching another orgasm, but it was too much for Arthur. His eyes rolled up slightly and he let out a groan as he came. He tugged at her hips when she slowed, urging her to finish without words. Another few strokes and the brush of his fingers against her clit and she came again, tight and pulsing around him.

Ariadne curled up around him, her face tucked into the hollow of his neck as they struggled to breathe. Arthur had his arms around her, fingers lightly stroking her spine. She loved this part of it, when they were tangled together and close, when for a moment the outside world didn't matter.

"You know," Ariadne began when she was able to speak again. "I've been thinking."

Arthur chuckled softly. "I'm in trouble for something, aren't I?" he teased.

"No," she replied with a smile. "On the plane, I mean. I was thinking of this last job. The handcuffs and all..."

His arms tightened around her fractionally. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have trusted that things would have been all right..."

"No, no, not that. You couldn't have known about the rest of it, and it all worked out in the end anyway. I mean..." She let out a little nervous laughter. It helped that she wasn't looking at him directly. "I mean some of the things in that bedroom. While you were under, I was wondering what it would be like. To do some of that. To be tied up or blindfolded or..." Her voice trailed off when she realized Arthur had gone very still beneath her. "Arthur?"

"You're interested in that?" he asked. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, and pushed herself up onto one elbow to look at his expression. It was dubious, but not judging.

Ariadne nodded. "Yeah." She could feel a blush rise along her cheeks. Stupid pale coloring. "And when we were handcuffed together, even though I was terrified something bad would happen to all of us, there was still... You were hot," she admitted abruptly, feeling her face go completely warm and red. "I like seeing you in control of everything like that. It's really... It does it for me."

Arthur blinked in surprise. "It does?"

"Yeah. Not that this isn't good," she added hastily. "I mean, I'm not saying this isn't. Or that I'm not happy, or... It's just... You don't always have to treat me like a porcelain doll, you know? I won't break. And I kinda want to have that intense look there for me."

He reached up and touched her face. "You're important to me, Ariadne."

"I love you, too," she said, then blinked in surprise when she realized what she said.

Arthur's grin was blinding, however. "I love you, Ariadne." She leaned into his touch and was dimly aware of the sappy smile on her face. "So... A little rougher, huh?"

"It doesn't sound weird, does it?" she asked, a trifle anxiously. It wasn't as if she had all this worldly experience, after all. He didn't say very much about his past sexual experiences either, but his touch on her skin was always sure and gentle, and it hadn't taken him very long to learn her body and its reactions.

"No." He leaned up and kissed her mouth, tongue sliding in to touch hers. "We can do that." He slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her head, holding her in place. "It'll be fun."

She answered his playful grin with one of her own, anticipation thrumming in her veins.

***

The resort had a few restaurants, and after dinner at one of them, Ariadne was happily buzzed on wine and Arthur's proximity. He always looked great in suits, and her eyes had lingered on the slope of his shoulders or the way he moved his hands. He had rather expressive hands, and she loved the way they felt on her skin. Arthur's lips curved slightly as he took in her expression during the dinner, and let his own eyes travel boldly over her bare arms and shoulders, at the simple locket dangling down between her breasts. He held her hand at one point during the meal, rubbing his fingers along the palm with deliberate slowness. To anyone else it would have looked like a casual date. Ariadne knew that it was a seduction, that this would lead up to something involving bare skin and heady kisses, soul-searing touches and gasping cries of pleasure.

Arthur had somehow managed to find pillar candles and matches, possibly while Ariadne was swimming in the pool. He was good at planning ahead, and she smiled at him while he lit the candles to give the room a soft glow. "I am very impressed," she said, smiling widely at him.

He grinned at her, a devilish twinkle in his eye. He was so much more relaxed here than he was on the job, and she loved that he showed her this side of himself. She reached out for him, and kissed his smiling mouth as she twined her arms around him. "I have plans for tonight," Arthur said, voice husky with need. She shivered at the sound of it, her breath catching and need already building low in her belly. He smiled at her expression, at the part in her lips. He pulled off his tie, black silk with a tight basket weave. He let the soft fabric run along the skin of her throat, then against her cheek. "Shall we play?"

Ariadne would have toppled over if she wasn't already holding onto Arthur. "Oh, yes," she replied, expression rapt. Anticipation made the desire in her sharper, and she could almost taste his cologne on her tongue. "Let's play."

She kicked off her heels before Arthur dragged the silk over her eyes and knotted it behind her head. "You have no idea how beautiful you are by candlelight," he murmured against her ear as he set the knot into place. His hands slid down her bare arms, then back up slowly. He slipped his fingers beneath the straps of her dress, caressing her skin. "Everything looks golden," he continued softly, moving one hand to the zipper at her back. "Like you're painted with it," he said, dragging the zipper down.

In this kind of tight fitting dress, she could only wear skimpy lace panties, a garter belt and thigh highs. The warm air brushed against her skin as the dress fell from her body to pool around her feet. Arthur guided her toward the bed, and every touch of his hand against her back felt electric. Without her sight, every other sense was heightened to compensate. She laid back on the bed, aware of the sounds of Arthur moving, but it didn't sound as though he was getting undressed. "Arthur?"

"Mm-hm?"

He was farther back than she expected him to be, and she blinked against the cloth. Propping herself up on her elbows, Ariadne turned toward the sound of his voice. "Talk to me? It's weird, not being able to see anything."

Arthur chuckled. "I'm being very quiet, too," he said, voice coming closer. "Letting you get used to not being able to see anything." The bed dipped beside her, and she turned fully toward it. "See? You still know where I am."

Ariadne smiled in spite of herself. "I guess I got a little nervous for a second there."

"Nervous enough to stop?" he asked, concern in his voice. He touched her arm gently, and his touch seemed more relaxed after she shook her head. "Okay, good."

"Looking forward to it, too?" Ariadne asked, grinning in the direction of his voice.

"Actually, yeah," Arthur admitted. He brushed silk against her arm, and gently pushed at her shoulders. "Lie back. Let me take care of you."

"But you always do that."

"Tonight's going to be different."

"Oh."

Ariadne laid back down and listened to the sound of cloth rustling with Arthur's motions. He drew her arms up over her head, then fastened them together with the length of silk cloth. There was the sound of him attaching the other end to the headboard, and he tugged gently to test the knots. "You're still being careful with me."

Arthur laughed. "Impatient, aren't you? In such a rush to get this done."

"Aren't you?"

She could hear more cloth rustling, and hoped that meant he was finally taking his clothes off. "Let's just say I'm very glad I'm not the one blindfolded. God, you have no idea how beautiful you are like that."

Just the sound of his voice was getting her a little wet, and Ariadne licked her lips. "Then tell me."

"I want to fuck you," Arthur said, voice raw with need. "Because you're right. Making love is fine, but _fucking..."_ His voice trailed off, and she could hear the sound of clothing hitting the floor. "Nothing beats that sometimes."

He came back onto the bed and drew her panties down her legs, then her garter belt. He left the silk stockings in place, his hands running over the silk covered flesh. Just when Ariadne was about to open her mouth to complain that nothing was happening, Arthur bent his head down and seized a breast in his mouth. He sucked hard, just this side of painful, his hands on her hips, fingers pressing into her. Ariadne gasped, then moaned as his tongue rubbed her nipple deliciously. He moved one of his hands to between her legs, urging them apart for him. She spread them wide, feeling the bed settle as he shifted position to kneel between her legs. Arthur slid a finger into her, soft and slow. At the needy sound she made, he slid another finger inside her, stretching her. "Yes," she whimpered. "That feels so good," she whispered as he thrust his fingers inside her and moved to suck on her other breast. He kept up a rapid pace before pulling his fingers out. Ariadne mewled in protest, making him chuckle against her chest. He drew the slicked fingers across her folds and then rubbed her clit. Ariadne writhed beneath him, pulling at the silk holding her wrists in place.

"So many ways to fuck you," Arthur said, his voice a rough, gravelly sound near her ear. "I'm finding it hard to pick just one," he continued, rubbing her clit. He seemed to go by her gasps and moans, by the way she pulled at the knots and strained against his touch.

"More," she moaned, hips canted toward his hand. "God, there, yes, oh God, like that, there, more..."

She came with a groan, but Arthur didn't let up on the sensual assault. He kept up the same fast pace, moving to suck on her earlobe. "Come for me," he growled, feeling her body begin to shake beneath him again. "Call my name."

"Arthur," she moaned, writhing and pulling at the silk. "Oh, God, Arthur, please, please, harder, right there, right there right there..."

Ariadne shattered beneath his touch, crying out before sagging back against the bed limply. Arthur thrust his fingers in deep, curling them and making her cry out in pleasure. He dragged his teeth across her earlobe and nipped at the line of her neck. "What do you want, Ariadne?" he asked, voice rough. "Tell me what you want."

"You. God, Arthur, I need you so much..."

He pumped his fingers harder, until she was shaking and on the edge of orgasm. He pulled back at the last moment, making her mewl in desperation at the loss of his touch. She could hear him lick his fingers, slurping slightly, and she turned toward the sound. "Arthur, please, I need you, please..."

Her hands fell from the headboard, though they were still tied. Arthur turned her onto her stomach, pressing her hard against the bed. He lifted her hips, pressing his cock against her dripping slit. Without warning, he drove into her all at once, sliding in deep enough to make her cry out in pleasure. Ariadne lifted herself up onto her elbows, her wrists still bound together, and turned her head to the side. Arthur caught a breast in his hand, squeezing tight, and moved to kiss her upturned mouth. The only sounds were her gasps and moans and the slap of skin on skin as he thrust hard and deep into her. He groaned deep in his throat, the feel of her exquisite around him. She tightened around him as she came, nearly howling with the force of her orgasm.

Arthur kept moving, thrusting faster than before. His hand tightened around her breast, making her mewl and writhe. Every thrust into her pushed her forward, making her other nipple drag across the sheets. It sent spikes of pleasure through her. She tried to shift her hips back, deepening his thrusts, making him groan. "You feel so good," she panted, fingers pulling at the sheets on the bed. "Harder," she gasped, pushing back into him. "Yes, like that, just like that, right there..." she moaned as he pinched her nipple then raked his nails along her side. "More, more, please, more..."

She came again, tight around him and barely able to breathe. Arthur groaned, his hips stuttering as he came. He pressed his face against the back of her neck, his breath coming in soft pants. He licked a stripe along her spine, tasting the sheen of sweat on her skin. He pulled off the blindfold first, leaving her collapsed beneath him with her wrists tied. Ariadne laughed weakly, exhausted and boneless. "That was amazing," she said, her voice breathless.

He kissed her upturned face and smiled at the sloppy grin on her face. "Give me a minute and I'll fuck you again," he said, leaning over slightly to nibble at her earlobe. "I don't have the same recovery time that you do."

Ariadne shivered in anticipation as his hands ran along her arms. Her wrists were still tied together, and his weight pressed her into the bed. It was comforting, though, and she smiled at him. The candlelight did leave a soft glow over everything, and she rested her cheek on her outstretched arm. "You look good like this," she murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"You're right about the candlelight. But also that look on your face right there. That's mine, you know? I'm the only one that gets to see it." She smiled, a soft and sensual curl of her lips. "I like that."

Arthur helped roll her over onto her back, and she stayed with her arms stretched up over her head, wrists still tied. As he settled over her, she lowered her arms around him so that she was holding him in place. She tightened her thighs around his hips, liking the feel of him resting on top of her. "So maybe at some point you want to tie _me_ up, is that it?" he teased.

Ariadne grinned. "Can I?"

He chuckled. "I won't be able to make you come a dozen times first, though."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll figure something out," she said, unable to stop smiling. This had been fantastic, and Arthur didn't think she was weird for liking this. As much as she liked having control of dreamscapes or being able to take care of herself despite her petite frame, she also liked having Arthur take control every once in a while. Ariadne ran her nails along his spine and watched him shiver, guessing that maybe he had similar thoughts from time to time. He was so in control of everything, and it was nice to give that up with someone she trusted.

"You're plotting something," he teased, surging up to kiss her forehead. "I can tell."

"Maybe," she replied playfully. She ran her nails along the muscles of his back again, then rubbed her toes along the back of his calf muscle. "Also enjoying this."

"What?"

"The quiet. Holding you. Feeling this good." She grinned up at him. "Take your pick."

Arthur kissed her, long and slow and deep, fingers of one hand tangled in her hair. "I love you," he murmured against her mouth. "I love you so much."

"I love you," Ariadne returned, holding him close. Even when he would have pulled away to change position, she pulled him back down against her. He settled on top of her, half of his weight on the bed to keep from smothering her.

Little things like that were touching, and had told her more than words did. It was still nice to hear them, still nice to feel as precious and cherished as she was. These were the moments that she held dear, the ones that mattered.

As dangerous as their life could be, she wouldn't have it any other way.

The End


End file.
